


Not Again

by GwendolynGreene



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: F/M, Not Again, Post-Break Up, Reunion, So we meet again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 18:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9560531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwendolynGreene/pseuds/GwendolynGreene
Summary: It's been eight months since Owen last saw Claire. Eight months since she walked out of their shared apartment with little more than a goodbye. And now, purely on chance, they're thrust into each other's lives once again and have to figure out how to make it work. He’s determined to remind her of when she was happy, but there’s something she’s not telling Owen. In the time since they broke up, something's happened. The question is, will he figure it out before it removes Claire from of the picture- forever?





	1. Chapter 1

Owen spotted her from across the café. She was stunning. The sight of her made him forget entirely the coffee in his hand as he scanned the room for an empty table. There she was, on the edge of the crowd, drinking from a mug and reading a book. His feet floated him towards her before he even realized he’d started moving. She was sipping from her mug before she noticed Owen standing in front of her, desperately trying to wrap his head around seeing her so suddenly. 

“Claire?”

Claire’s head whipped up from her book, wide eyes scanning the room for the source of her name. Then she saw Owen smiling down on her and her face changed.

“Owen?” She nearly whispered.

“It’s been a while.” Owen said, still mindlessly holding his cup of coffee.

“Yeah, that’s for sure.” Claire said. They were silent for a moment. Owen didn’t know what to say. Claire looked like she might not want to say anything at all.

“You look good. The glasses are new.” Owen finally said, pointing to the thick black frames resting on the bridge of her nose. She brought her hand to them reflexively, pushing them back up and looking to the side. Her eyes darted around for a second before returning to Owen. “I almost didn’t recognize you.” 

“Oh, well they didn’t work, then.”

Owen laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard Claire tell a joke. He missed it. “What, you’re trying to hide from me?”

“Not from you.” Claire’s face was serious, her mouth in a flat line. “From everyone else.”

“So, how’s everything been for you? Since I last saw you?” He asked, trying to change the subject. The image was still burned into his brain. Claire’s eyes, looking at anything but him, her bags already packed at the door. A terse _‘Goodbye, Owen’_ as she turned and walked out of their apartment for the last time.

Claire paused, trying to find the words. “Oh, you know. It’s been better.”

He remembered their easy life on the island. Of course at the time, they didn’t think it was easy. They took for granted just how much was given to them at the park- food, lodging, human contact. Before beasts chased them through the jungle. Before they sat awake in bed for hours talking of nothing and everything at the same time because they couldn’t stand one more nightmare. 

“Yeah. But it’s also been worse.” Owen said. His eyes traced a long strand of hair that was half tucked into the ponytail on top of her head- still the same rich auburn he’d always known on her. But it was longer now. It was such a little thing, but it felt like something much bigger as he studied this new Claire, this unfamiliar Claire. She wasn’t the same business woman with the tough exterior he’d known on the island, or the complete mental wreck their first few days on the mainland, or the carefree and joyful woman he thought had been happy with him in their little apartment. This Claire was different still from all the other Claires he could recall, and he couldn’t place just what the difference was.

Claire said nothing, only offering a tiny smile and a diverted gaze in response. She fiddled with her watch strap.

“So, uh, I guess I’ll see you around, then?” Owen asked.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Owen turned. He was halfway to the door, already kicking himself for cutting their conversation off so short. When he looked back, Claire’s nose was back in her book, taking the final sip from her mug.

“Hey, Claire,” He said on his way back to the table. “We should do lunch sometime. Catch up a bit. Or dinner, whenever you’re free.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Claire answered. “We didn’t work the first two times we tried it, Owen. There’s no reason to believe it would work the third.”

“Oh come on, it’s just lunch. It doesn’t have to be anything.”

“Yes it does, Owen. It’s always something. For two straight months, it was always something.”

“Yeah, two months where you said you were happy. ‘Happiest you’d ever been’ I think you said.” Owen said. He was mindful of his volume. They were in a crowded café, after all, and the other patrons didn’t need to hear about their failed relationship. Besides, Claire kept checking over her shoulder. As of yet they hadn’t drawn too much attention. He didn’t want to make it worse. Claire stood, leaving her empty mug and tucking her book under her arm.

“Look, I can’t do this, Owen. I can’t do it again. I can’t let you-” She paused, holding her breath for a moment. “I can’t put myself through that again. So if I see you around, then I see you around. Goodbye.”

She brushed past him, adjusted her glasses once more, and moved towards the door.

He couldn’t watch her leave again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is one of the reasons I haven't been posting anything else lately! It's about one of three fics I've been working on, because I want to post them in their entirety instead of chapter by chapter as I go. Luckily, I've powered through this one and now IT'S DONE!!!!! Hopefully this means I can get back to what I was doing before this idea popped into my head. (It sort of jumped to the top of the list!) I have lots more fics to come!
> 
> Sincerely, 
> 
> PLOT MONSTER
> 
> -GG


	2. Chapter 2

Owen clipped his new employee ID badge to his breast pocket, following the security officer inside the building. It had been weeks since he’d seen Claire at the Café, and it was still nagging in the back of his mind. He’d never pined after a woman like he did Claire Dearing. Since the day he met her, she’d had an unmistakeable effect on him and he hadn’t been able to forget about her since. At least before, on the island, when she didn’t come around and he didn’t see her for a while he knew it would just be a matter of time until he did. When she’d walked out of their apartment without any notice, he spent weeks hoping she’d return. Not that he’d ever admit to it, but he’d constantly been on high alert for a hand on the doorknob. Or footsteps in the hall. But she never came back. To see her so suddenly in such a common place, and to be brushed off so quickly, it left an odd feeling in his chest.

He’d been sort of bouncing between jobs for the last while, odd jobbing here and there, consulting a little on the side. Since the Park, no job had quite compared. And it wasn’t just Claire, although that did play a bit of a role. He’d lost his girls, too. He’d made a connection with them and built himself a life and had to abandon it all when he left. And finding a job like the one he had before, that was a tall order he’d yet to fill. This new job was just another in a string of office jobs he’d found himself in. Nothing about it seemed special.

All the offices he’d worked in seemed to have the same colour of grey paint on the walls. The print of the carpet was different building to building, but the texture and the look were all the same. The same men in business suits, the same motivational posters on the walls. He’d do whatever work they needed him for, then he’d turn in his badge and find another monotonous office building to work in. Simple.

The tour concluded in what they called the “bullpen”. It was a ring of glass-walled offices where all the heads of department worked. That way, everyone important was always at an arm’s reach. There was a conference room with an impressive bank of screens set up and a collection of comfortable-enough chairs gathered around a large table. For now, the conference room was empty and the cubicles were filled with people. A man in a pressed black suit approached him.

“So, you’re the new guy?” The man held out his hand for Owen to shake, then dismissed the security officer accompanying him.

“Yes, sir.”

“Carl Babick, Head of Operations. Nice to meet you. Let’s show you to your cubicle.”

They strolled past a few cubicles which housed employees at work on their computers. Someone was going by, collecting folders from desks. Carl stopped him at an empty desk, telling him this is where he’d be seated, but Owen wasn’t paying any attention. Half dumbstruck by the sheer sight of her, and half flabbergasted at his odds, the woman fetching a manila folder from his new cube-mate had all of his attention.

“Claire.” It wasn’t even a question this time. It was her. Same red hair, same thick glasses.

She turned, almost scared, to look at the voice who’d called out her name. Her eyes widened in surprise when, for the second time in recent memory, she locked eyes with Owen Grady.

“How did you know I was here?” She asked, guardedly.

“I didn’t.” Owen said.

“Claire, this is the new guy we brought on to review the Johnson file. Owen Grady, this is Claire Dearing, Manager of Financials.”

“I know. I already know him, Carl. We-” Claire hesitated.

“We worked together before.” Owen finished, before she could embarrass herself. Claire only glanced down at her feet in response.

“Well, then, it’s a small world, isn’t it?” Babick clapped Claire gently on the back, watching her facial expression. “We aren’t going to have a problem, are we? You did ask to be left out of this hiring decision. I believe your words were _‘wish to remain uninvolved with any and all public matters’_.”

“Ah, yes. Right. No, there won’t be a problem. It’ll be fine. Excuse me, Mr. Grady, I have to get back to work.” Claire brushed past him, holding her pile of paperwork. “We’ll have to catch up some other time.”

Babick watched her go. He turned to Owen, who was trying very hard not to stare. “Whatever happened, I hope it won’t affect your work, Mr. Grady. We have a strict no-fraternizing policy.”

“No sir.” Owen turned back to his desk, feigning interest in the features of his new chair. The most intriguing feature of his new cubicle, he found out after Babick had set him to his work, was the sightline. He found that if he sat straight up in his chair, he was pointed directly at the glass walls of Claire’s office.

That was how he finally caught her in the break room. Owen saw movement over the top of his computer screen and sat up and watched as she exited her office, mug in hand. Knowing her as well as he did, he had to assume what she was pouring now was at least her third cup of coffee for the day. He tried not to sneak up on her this time, based on her reaction the past two times he’d spotted her. Luckily she was facing the door when he approached. Her eyes almost immediately landed on her mug.

“Hey, we don’t actually have a problem, do we?” Owen asked, trying to pry her attention from the swirling steam. “I’m really just here to work. A couple of weeks, then I’m out of your hair again.”

“Wait,” Claire said, “I thought they were looking to keep the new hire on for additional case files in the high season?”

“Well, they might be. But I don’t really stick around that long in places like these. Office jobs aren’t really my thing.”

“That’s too bad. For you, I mean. The pay’s good for the work required, and you’re enrolled in a really good benefits package.”

“Well, benefits are no good if it’s going to bother you.”

“No, no. Don’t be silly.” She smiled, a small thing tugging at her lips unconvincingly. “I can play nice.” She looked down again, gathered herself, and returned with a warm smile that looked real to everyone but Owen. He appreciated the attempt. He missed her smile.

She brushed past him again, back to her office. It was surreal, being back to work with Claire Dearing. The last thing he wanted was to spoil it, but could he really let another chance like this pass him by?


	3. Chapter 3

The best part of Owen’s new job was working with Claire. The worst part of Owen’s new job was also working with Claire.

For example, when she was practically overdosing on caffeine he no longer had the privilege of stepping in to moderate her intake before she put herself in the hospital. In their new (or, rather, revised) roles, that would be stepping out of bounds. However, being able to see her every day and occasionally talk to her was almost enough to outweigh his anxiety over not being able to get closer to her. At this point, he was going to take whatever he could get. But they’d been pleasant to each other so far, playing nice and making sure not to attract too much attention to themselves.

Another example: when Claire was pulling yet another late night at the office and he was pretty sure she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. She was holed up in the conference room, still reviewing everyone’s notes from the earlier meeting, scribbling notes and numbers on the paperwork in front of her. The sky was dark as the last few employees filed out, offering one last time for Claire to accompany them to the bar across the way. To no one’s surprise, she turned them down, and then it was just Claire and Owen left in the building.

She must not have noticed he was still in the office. When he knocked on the open conference room door, he managed to once again sneak up on her and immediately apologized.

“I’m all done for the night. I’m gonna go get something to eat. You wanna come with me?” Owen said.

Claire quirked an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Owen said, crossing his arms. “We both need to eat. Might as well do it together. I know this nice little diner, they have some of the best burgers I’ve ever had in my _life_.”

“Wow. Coming from you, that’s quite the glowing recommendation.”

Owen grinned. “Yeah, it’s just a couple miles down that way.”

Claire looked in the direction he’d pointed, although it was pointless. “A couple of miles? I’m sorry, I can’t- my car’s in the shop getting a new paint job. Some asshole keyed it.”

“Who?” Owen’s brow furrowed.

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be the one footing the bill.” Claire diverted her gaze back down to her paperwork. The air in the room stood still for a moment.

“We can take my bike.” Owen said. Claire’s eyes rose and met his. They both knew what taking the bike meant. Claire would have to ride behind him, like she did eight months ago when they’d take the bike out for weekend outings. She had been scared at first, and sometimes held a little tightly to Owen to ensure she didn’t fall off. Once she’d gotten the hang of it her grip had loosened, but Owen couldn’t forget the feel of her hands on his hips, or the feel of her body pressed against him.

“Right…because putting my hands on you couldn't possibly end badly?”

“What’re you tellin’ me, Dearing? I’m just so irresistible once you get your hands on me that you won’t wanna take them off?” Owen smirked. He was teasing her, of course. Just like he always did. But he questioned whether this was one of those times it was appropriate.

“Maybe.” Claire answered without hesitation. The smile dropped from his face. She was being serious.

“How were you gonna get home?”

“Taxi.”

“Aw, come on. I can’t let you take a taxi. Come to dinner with me, then I can drop you off at your place.” Owen said, straightening up. “I promise I won’t try anything.”

Claire donned that half-smile of hers she wore when she was politely considering something. He expected her to turn him down, and at the very least he wanted to give her a ride home, if only so she didn’t have to pay for a taxi. He wasn’t trying to swindle a date out of her, no matter what she thought.

“Okay. Just let me finish this and close up.” Claire smiled, jotting a few things down and missing the surprise on Owen’s face. She dropped the files off in her office before locking the door. The air between them was quiet as they made their way out. Claire cleared her throat and waved goodbye to Security as they turned towards the stairs to the carpark. It was a small space, and through the row of cars he could see the empty spot where Claire’s white SUV usually sat. She hesitated once she was out the door, darting her eyes over the dimly lit space. Owen led her to the right, where he’d parked his bike. The sight of Owen’s precious machine was familiar, and it showed on Claire’s face. But her eyes landed on his helmet and it must have clicked for the first time that she wouldn’t go near the bike without the proper head protection and they hadn’t even discussed it.

Before she could say anything on the matter, he opened one of his saddlebags and produced another familiar sight: her old helmet. They hadn’t been together long, and Owen hadn’t even had the bike the entire time. But when Owen had come home with it, he’d brought with him two helmets. There was never a question to him whether his two loves would intersect.

“I didn’t know you still had this…” Claire said as she took the helmet from him gently, still avoiding looking him in the eye. Owen let his hand fall once she’d taken it from him, watching her expression.

“Well, it’s worth having around. It’s not like I was going to get rid of a perfectly good helmet.” Owen said, careful not to tell her how hard it was to look at for the first while. How hard it was to get on the bike the first time after she left and not feel her riding behind him. In truth he kept it for more sentimental reasons than pragmatism, and he thanked his lucky stars that he had. If he hadn’t, there was no way Claire would be riding with him tonight.

“And you keep it on the bike…?” Claire asked, finally looking him in the eye. She still held the helmet delicately.

“Yeah. You know. For good luck.”

“I hope you don’t need luck on that thing!” Claire said, her demeanour completely changing. She side-eyed the bike, cinching her eyebrows comically at Owen. He laughed. This was his old Claire. Claire and her half-attempt at humour, half concern.

“You know me. I’d never do anything stupid on my bike. Especially not with you on the back.” Owen said, giving a hard tap with his knuckles to Claire’s helmet. “Let’s get this thing on you.”

“I remember.” Claire said, fitting it over her head. He flicked the visor up for her, since she’d left it down, but allowed her to fasten the chin strap. It still fit perfectly. He hadn’t adjusted a thing since she’d last worn it. She looked out the opening as he turned, closed the saddlebag, and grabbed his own helmet. He sat himself, making sure Claire got on correctly and was seated safely before putting his helmet on. They nodded and dropped their visors. 

Owen turned the key, felt the vibrating thrum between his legs. Behind him, he could feel Claire reach her hands around his waist. He turned his head back, waiting. She didn’t move. “What, you’re not going to do it?”

“Do what?” Claire’s voice was barely audible from under her helmet with the rumble of his engine between them. “Oh.” She leaned forward, tapping her helmet gently off of his. It was their old tradition. Back when they were together, they called it “kissing” helmets. It was a send-off. A way of saying ‘Good to Go’ and ‘Good Luck’. It felt odd to do know.

“Alright! Let’s go.” Owen took off through the car park. He felt Claire’s grip tighten around him, as she always did when he took off. Then they hit the open road and it suddenly felt _right_. Claire was behind him again, the lights of the city surrounded them, and the cool night air brushed past them. He wondered what Claire was thinking of. If she was remembering all those late night rides and weekend excursions they used to take. Or the time they took to the highway to chase the sunset. Any excuse to take the bike out, really. She used to mock him, gently of course, over how much he loved his bike. Even asked him once why he did, but he wasn’t able to fully articulate the feeling of freedom it offered him. He’d never been good with words. Not like Claire, at least.

Maybe that had been the problem. Claire liked to talk about things, and Owen found he never could. It was always easier to say nothing at all versus trying to find the words and failing. 

Claire’s grip had loosened since they left the garage, settling back to that comfortable hold she’d learned before. He’d made sure to go over with her just what she should and shouldn’t do on the bike to quell her fears and she trusted him to keep her safe. He could still feel her pressed against him, a constant reminder that he was carrying precious cargo.

He pulled into the diner’s parking lot and settled his bike beside the building. “Alright! We’re here.” He took his own helmet off, and felt Claire shift behind him, moving to swing her leg off of the bike. He turned to check on her and had to throw his arm out to stop her at the last second. “Whoa whoa! Hey, wrong side. Careful.”

Claire stopped, dismounted from the proper side, and cursed her memory. He made sure she was okay, looking down at the tender flesh of her ankle which she’d been seconds away from scorching on his exhaust. She fumbled to remove her helmet, unable to free herself. She’d always had a problem getting it off. Owen chuckled and helped her out of it. “Good to know some things never change. You okay?”

Once she was free, she mumbled a yes and tried to flatten a flyaway. Owen smoothed out her hair for her, running his fingers through her bangs until they sat right, Claire’s face reddening at his touch. She absently brought her hand to her neck, looking at the ground as he put away both of their helmets.

“So this is the place? Their burgers better be as good as you say they are, or we’re going to have a serious talk.”

Owen laughed and held the door open for her.


	4. Chapter 4

The diner was quiet this time of night. The dinner rush had passed but the night crowd was yet to show up. A small group sat quietly a few rows off from the booth Claire and Owen sat in, but otherwise the diner was empty. The waitress appeared to check on their meal just as Claire’s mouth was full of food.

“And how’s your burgers?” The waitress asked, a grey-haired woman with a warm smile.

“Everything’s great, thank you.” Owen said, laughing at the way Claire covered her mouth, even though it was closed, trying to swallow before speaking. She gave up and offered a thumbs up and the waitress left again. “Do you need some help with that?” Owen chuckled, offering a napkin over the table.

Claire took it and wiped her mouth as she finally managed to swallow everything down. “Thank you.”

“Told you it was good.”

“You were right. This is amazing. How often do you come here?”

“Aw, just every now and then.” Owen shrugged. Across the diner, the cook waved at him from the kitchen. He waved back. “Okay, maybe I come here pretty often.”

“I’m surprised. You were the only one between us who could actually cook.” Claire mused as she picked up another French fry. Her hair was in her face again, falling to the sides of her new glasses. He still wasn’t used to the sight of them. 

“Guess I don’t really have an excuse, do I?” Owen paused. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Claire said, looking up.

“The glasses. What’s up with those, really?”

Claire blinked slowly. She brought her hand to the frames, feeling them. “Oh. Well, it’s just- you know.”

“I don’t. I really don’t.” Owen said, searching her face. Claire looked up at him. She sucked in a breath but didn’t say anything. “Come on, you can trust me.”

“Since…everything that happened. The news coverage. People were recognizing me. On the street. At the grocery store. Since everything wrapped up a few months ago, it just got worse. I got tired of people walking up to me to ask if I was the ‘dinosaur lady’, you know?” Claire cast her eyes back at her plate and removed the glasses completely, setting them on the table. “Truth is they don’t even work, really.”

“But nobody’s done anything, right? Nobody’s tried to get physical?” Owen asked. He was worried how angry people could get. Or even violent. When they’d been together, somebody had thrown something at her once. Owen nearly punched the guy who did it, but Claire insisted they just leave instead.

“No, just…” Claire hesitated. Something flickered across her face, like she was remembering something.

Owen leaned in. “You can tell me, Claire.” He whispered.

“Just a lot of questions, that’s all. About what happened on the island. That’s all.” Claire said. “I just got tired of it.”

Owen nodded, sitting back up again. There was something missing. Something she was keeping from him. But he didn’t want to pry any more. He was closer now to Claire than he’d been for the last eight months and he didn’t want to ruin it. With the glasses gone she really was like her old self- the one he’d gotten to know. The one he’d slept beside and calmed from the nightmares. The one he’d cooked for because she was nearly useless in the kitchen. The one who used to cover her mouth when she laughed because a small piece of her pride still remained that insisted that Owen wasn’t supposed to be funny. 

“You still working on that burger?” Owen pointed at the few bites still left on her plate and the scattered fries.

Claire brought a hand to her stomach. “Oh, no. I don’t think I can eat another bite. I’m so full already.”

“You can’t be full. There’s still dessert left. They have an entire ice cream bar, just waiting for us.”

Claire’s head snapped up, scanning the diner. She spotted the ice cream bar he referred to and turned to glare at him. “Is that why you brought me here?” She accused.

Owen grinned, wiping his hands off on a napkin. “Maybe.”

Claire scrambled from the booth and Owen followed behind her as she made a bee line for the ice cream bar. Her vice, which Owen was one of a very privileged few to even be aware of, was ice cream that was either based off of or contained a type of candy. As in: Oreo, Reese’s cups, peppermint in the winter months, or in this case, after practically drooling over the display, she decided on the Smarties flavour. As she got the first spoonful on her tongue, he nearly saw her eyes roll back in her head as she moaned.

“That good, huh?” Owen asked in between licks of his peanut butter flavour.

“Umm-hmm. If you didn’t appear to be on a first-name basis with the wait staff, I would accuse you of trickery in bringing me here.” She emphasised her point by poking the end of her spoon toward him.

Owen shook his head before the waitress made her way back over. “Hope I’m not interrupting your date, Owen, but how is dessert treating you?”

Claire sputtered on the spoonful in her mouth. Owen waved them both down. “It’s not a date, Betty. Just friends. It’s fine, thank you. It’s great, in fact. Thank you.” Owen cleared his throat. The waitress walked away once more.

Claire was holding back a laugh, her hand covering her mouth again. “Wow. I was just kidding about the first-name-basis thing, I didn’t think I was actually right!”

“Oh, come on! She was wearing a name tag!”

“She called you Owen.”

“Yeah, most people do.”

“Oh, really?” Claire snorted. “Is that so, Mr. Grady?”

“Oh, don’t start that again.” Owen threw his balled-up napkin at her as she snickered. He set back to his ice cream. “I’ve gone long enough without you callin’ me Mr. Grady. I’m not letting you start up again.” She returned his napkin to him, tossing it at his head while still quietly giggling to herself. A smile was spread across her face, relaxing her features from the usual stern look she donned. Before he knew what he was doing, he breathed out, “I miss this.”

Claire settled back into her seat, just as Owen realized what he’d said. And before he could contemplate how to recover the friendly air they’d managed to generate around themselves, she responded with, “So do I.”

Owen searched his brain for the words he wanted to say, but found once again they weren’t coming to him.

“I’m sorry.” Claire said. “For leaving the way I did.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“No, I- I really think I do.”

“You did what you thought was right at the time. I can’t fault you for that.” Owen waited. For a long while after she left, he’d been stuck in emotional purgatory. He was sad, of course. ‘Sad’ didn’t even come to describe it. He was lost, and lonely for the first time in a long time. Even when he’d lived alone, he’d never been lonely. The feeling was entirely new. He’d tried to be angry. He really did. He tried to be mad at Claire for what she did but he couldn’t. He was beginning to accept that fact that there wasn’t much she could do that Owen wouldn’t forgive her for.

“I’m pretty sure this is where you’re supposed to be mad at me for leaving.”

“I tried. I can’t. All I want to know is…why?” He asked, meeting her eyes. “You never told me why?”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not the same person when I’m around you, Owen. I change. I’m not…me.”

Owen leaned back into his seat. He remembered quite clearly. There was a point where Business Claire had disappeared, and the little glimpses he’d had at a different Claire, a more carefree Claire, fully emerged. He knew that she changed. It was obvious. But other than proving a point, he didn’t see that fact helping his case any.

“But you said that was a good thing. You said that once.”

“But it’s not real, Owen. It’s not me.” Claire sighed. She rested her hands on the table and stared into her bowl, watching the colours of the candy run into the melting cream. “I’m not impulsive, Owen. It’s not who I am. And when I’m around you, I get careless. I lose my sense of control. That’s not who I’ve ever been.”

“I just don’t see how it’s a bad thing if it means you’re happy.”

“It’s not that… It’s just not practical…”

“Practical? You shouldn’t need a reason to feel happy.” Owen filled his spoon with ice cream again.

“It’s not fair to either of us that you fall in love with someone who isn’t real.” Claire said, looking at his face. This time he didn’t look up, and instead watched his spoon hover over his bowl. He couldn’t ignore the pain in her voice as she said that. Sure, their breakup had been hard on him. But he’d forgotten that it had also likely been hard on her.

“Hey, I’m not here to argue. It was your decision. I just wanted to know.” He brought the spoon to his mouth and Claire returned to her own ice cream.

“I just…I’m sorry, okay? For leaving like that. I should have told you why.”

Owen sighed slowly through his nose. “I think we both know I’m not the easiest person to talk to.”

“You’re not as bad as you think. Some nights there, I think talking to you was the only thing that kept me sane. More than anything else, just having the company was enough. To actually be able to talk to someone who knew…”

“What it was like?” Owen finished for her. He brought his eyes up to meet hers. The statement was broad, but it had too many meanings to convey. Someone who knew what the nightmares were about. Who knew the threat of a looming panic attack over watching the news. Who knew what it felt like to have the Indominus breathe down your neck. To believe wholeheartedly that you were going to die, and to cling to the only person you could in terror. That feeling doesn’t just go away; the need for human contact in a moment of crisis remains long after the moment ends. Owen knew that too well. But he’d never had the chance to stay with that same person. To live with them, get close to them, and sleep with them in both senses of the word. To grow so attached it felt foreign to spend a day without them. Or how it felt to have them leave your life forever. That was the hardest. More so than the panic attacks or the nightmares. Losing Claire had been the hardest thing he’d gone through after the Incident. And it wasn’t because of the sex, or anything else. It was because he’d lost the only person who actually understood what that had been like.

“Yeah.” Claire breathed. “You know, we don’t have to be complete strangers. We don’t have to lose everything we once had…There’s something to be said for at least keeping in contact. Even if we…” Claire caught herself and started again. “Even if I don’t think it’s a good idea to get _involved_ again…doesn’t mean we can’t talk.”

Owen smiled. “I think that’s a good idea.” His heart leapt at her suggestion. He couldn’t help it. I wasn’t a gigantic leap, or a miniscule hop either. It was somewhere in between, with just a twinge of regret. The thought crept up on him now as it had done many times in the past. _Was there something he could have done? Could he have made Claire stay?_

“On that note…” Claire trailed, swirling her spoon through the remains of her ice cream. “My nephews have been asking about you _incessantly_ …so?”

Owen smirked. He couldn’t remember exactly the last time he’d talked to Claire’s nephews, but it must have been as long as they’d been apart. The boys would occasionally try to video chat him, but without any clue how Claire would feel about that, he tended to ignore them and pretend he wasn’t home or at his computer. He wondered if Gray was just as curious about the world as he had been. Or if Zach was still in that High School Slump he so often complained about. “You can tell them that I’ve been doing alright.”

“You should probably tell them that yourself.” Claire gave a small smile, giving a quick nod of her head.

“Are you sure? I wasn’t sure what the protocol was…after we weren’t together any more…”

“Hey, I can’t tell either of you who you can talk to. Besides, they sort of idolize you. It would be good for them to hear from you.” Claire said. “Otherwise they’re gonna just keep calling you and calling you until one day you pick up.”

“Yeah…that kid’s got enough brains to take over the world someday. And if that day should come, I don’t want to be on Gray’s naughty list.”

They laughed. Claire actually laughed, without covering her mouth. It was quick and short, but she laughed as Owen laughed and the sound echoed in the empty diner. The hour ticked on and the night sky suddenly pressed in on them from the windows. Claire scooped up her last mouthful of ice cream and set aside her empty dish next to Owen’s, long abandoned.

“We should probably get going. Get you home.” Owen said, standing up from the booth. He fished his wallet out from his back pocket and yanked the bill out from Claire’s reach when she tried to go for it. “Nope. That’s mine.”

“Oh, come on.” Claire huffed. Owen shook his head. “Okay, fine. But at least let me get the tip.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's what she said.


	5. Chapter 5

Owen brought his bike to a stop in front of Claire’s building. The street was quiet but the lights were strong, setting the area into a calm, yellow-washed serenity. He helped her helmet off again after ensuring she disembarked on the correct side.

“Well,” Claire started, fiddling with the strap on her helmet. “This is me, so…thank you. For the ride, for the meal, and for the company. It really was nice.”

“Hey. No problem.” Owen took the helmet that she offered back to him, setting it down on the seat behind him. “We should do this again sometime soon.”

“Yeah.” Claire turned to go, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, which only exposed more of the pink blush spreading across her face. “Maybe not too soon. But I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Bright and early.” Owen said, leaning against the seat of his bike. He watched her go through the front door and turn just as it closed, offering him a smile before retreating inside. He remained there for a moment, grinning ear to ear, and wondering how on earth he’d ever gotten so lucky just to know someone like her.

The next day at work, their coworkers definitely noticed something was different. For starters, Claire wasn’t wearing those thick glasses of hers. And for another, where Claire had previously been aloof with her interactions with Owen, now she was being open and almost playful. Of course, it never would have been noticeable if he hadn’t been prodding her all day. A joke here, a goofy smile there that she just couldn’t help but reciprocate. Maybe a small misuse of the employee email system so he could send her his latest funny quip without having to interrupt her work completely. It felt good.

Just before lunch, Babick stormed back into the office. The sound of the door opening before him crashed like a gunshot. Every head turned to watch him head straight for the bullpen. Claire was in the Head of HR’s office, discussing some file, when Babick’s entrance turned their attention. She stood in silence as Babick opened the door of the office and demanded the other woman behind the desk come with him. After retrieving her, Babick then barked out for one of the other employees in the sea of cubicles to follow them. Thirty seconds later, Babick and the two employees were closed off in the conference room with all of the blinds down while the rest of the office stared and murmured in shock.

Less than ten minutes later, the two employees were ushered from the conference room, badges confiscated, and shown out the door by security in tears. The first thing Babick did after returning to his computer was to mass email the entire staff about the company’s firm no-fraternizing policy.

The entire office was abuzz with gossip when Owen went into the break room. Claire was seated at a table, stirring a sugar packet into her coffee.

“That was intense, huh?” Owen said as he took a seat across from her.

“Tell me about it. Linda’s been with this company for over eight years. She’s been in charge of HR for three of them. I can’t believe he just _fired her_.”

“I didn’t think he’d fire both of them. And not someone so high up the food chain.”

“Oh, Babick doesn’t care. He’s serious about his policies. Ever wonder what happened to the Head of Financials before me?” Claire asked, taking a sip from her cup. She leaned in. “They fired him. One night stand with an intern, apparently.”

“That’s harsh. And did you see his email? The entire thing was bolded.” Owen reached for his own cup of coffee.

“Oh, no. I didn’t. I-uh, I had to change my email again.” Claire said, looking down into her drink. When prompted she added, “It got hacked.”

“So you didn’t get my email?” Owen asked. Claire shook her head. “It’s fine. It was nothing. How’s the new paint job?”

Claire groaned. “They didn’t finish it. Said it would be done tomorrow.”

“That sucks. Need another ride home?”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t ask you-”

“Then don’t ask.” Owen said. “It’s done.”

“Thanks.” Claire said. Someone snickered behind her, to which she turned and snapped, “Shut up, Brenda. We’re just friends. Everyone knows you’ve been circling Linda’s job like a hawk. Don’t you have some brown-nosing to do somewhere?”

After Brenda walked out of the break room with a snort, they were left alone. “Boy, you really know how to make friends, don’t you?”

Claire dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “I don’t need friends.”

“Agree to disagree.” Owen shrugged. “Good thing that’s all we are, huh? With what happened earlier?”

Claire raised her eyebrows. “Oh yeah. For sure. Just another way that everything would go wrong.”

Owen nodded in agreement. He couldn’t deny that he was still attracted to Claire. And knowing she was so close, yet still out of his reach, was painful. Especially with the memory of how it felt to have her still so fresh. Of feeling her in the bed next to him when he woke up. Of her scent filling his head every time he’d wrap his arms around her. But Claire didn’t want any of that again. If ‘friendly’ was all she wanted, then ‘friendly’ it would be.

When the end of the night rolled over them and the weekend loomed, Owen stood outside of her office as she packed up her things. He ran a finger over the name tag next to her door, feeling the embossed letters. _Claire Dearing, Manager of Financials_. Looking around at the other offices in the bullpen, he realized something.

“Why aren’t you the Head of Financials?”

“Excuse me?” Claire said, turning her head to look at him.

“All the other offices are for the _Head_ of this…the _Head_ of that…” He pointed to the others around him to prove his point. “You said the last guy who worked this job was the _Head of Financials_. So why’re you the _Manager_ of Financials?”

Claire paused, hand on the light switch. “It’s a privacy thing.” Owen silently prompted her for more. “The company has to list the names of all the Heads of Department publicly. But not managers. This way, no one can find me.”

Owen chose not to address the ominous way she’d phrased that. Was she actually concerned about people finding her? “That doesn’t sound fair.”

“Well, the difference in pay isn’t much. But it works out better for everyone. Now the company doesn’t have to worry about people knowing they hired the Dinosaur Lady.”

Owen held the door open for her to the main lobby. “Yeah, but you still ran a successful theme park for ten years, doesn’t that count for something?”

Claire huffed. “Nobody seems to care about that anymore.”

There it was again, that doubt in her eyes. It doused her fire. Put out her light. Took away that thing that made her shine in a room full of business executives; it was the thing that drew Owen’s attention to her in the first place. Without it, he worried for Claire.

“Now that I know where I’m dropping you off, how about we take the scenic route?” Owen offered. “There’s a bit of coast in between here and your place. It’s not much, but we could always go a little out of our way?”

“That sounds nice.” Claire smiled.

It didn’t take nearly as much time to get situated on the bike tonight, and Claire even remembered about Kissing Helmets this time. Once they hit the highway, she held herself even closer to his back, her fingers threading themselves around his belt loops so she wouldn’t fall off. The few miles they had flew by fast, so Owen skipped his exit and pulled off to the side of the road next to a bluff.

“What happened?” Claire asked through her open visor.

“I missed the exit,” Owen lied. “Hey, do you remember the last time we came out here?”

Claire turned, taking in the night sky and the surf crashing over the beach below them and the thousands of miles of ocean that stretched out into the dark horizon. “Yeah, I do.” Owen didn’t need to see the smile on Claire’s face to hear it in her voice. Through the helmet, the only thing he could see was her eyes, but he was glad to see that spark back in them.

“Hardly looks like anything’s changed.” Owen said. They lingered, taking in the view. With every breath of salt water air the rest of the day seemed to melt away. It was only Claire and Owen there, sharing this space and this moment and this fresh air. At some point Claire’s hand draped itself along his back, in all likelihood just for stability since they were still seated on the bike. But her fingers grazed him just so, setting a tingling along his spine he couldn’t put out. It filled him with some sort of electricity that transferred into the air around them. Owen wondered if Claire could feel it too, or if she even knew it was happening.

By the time he was dropping her off in front of her apartment the air was practically charged around them. She laughed as he helped her out of her helmet again, wiping strands of hair out of her face without a care as to where they landed.

“Well, that was fun.” Claire laughed. Owen took to putting away their helmets, but he couldn’t help notice Claire’s lower lip as it tucked itself between her teeth. He followed her to the door this time, their shoulders brushing against each other in the proximity. Her eyes were positively alight when she turned to him, hand on the door. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Owen said. Her hand clenched around the door knob so he turned to go. At the last second, Claire spoke up beside him.

“Owen?” She asked. The moment he turned to her, she surged forward and kissed him. His hands pressed into her back, holding her close so she wouldn’t slip away like smoke. But she was real and she was solid and her fingers roaming up to his cheeks, feeling the stubble of his beard, set fire to every inch of skin she touched. Her lips on his parted, bidding entrance, and he opened before her. Finally, the memory of Claire collided with the feel, the smell, and the taste of her. But it was too real and it was too much and as his head began to swim, the memory of last night came back to him.

“Claire,” He breathed, reluctantly. He pulled back just enough to feel the night air drift in between them, cold on his fiery skin. He kept his grip loose, unwilling to let go of his own accord, but allowing Claire to break away from him if she chose to. “You know I want this…”

She blinked. Reality soaked into her; a sharpness and shock overtook her features at the same time. Her hands hovered over him, still setting those fires of hers. “Half of me wants this…”

Her voice wavered. Her hands continued to float over him, and it took almost everything he had to pull back from Claire, and let the night air take its rightful place between them. He sighed, long and hard.

“I’m sorry.” Claire whispered. Her hand covered her mouth, either still feeling Owen’s lips on her or wondering why they’d ever been there in the first place. He couldn’t tell.

“You’re allowed to be confused, Claire. But you can’t keep teasing me like this.” He ran his hand over his face, trying to wake himself up from these emotions all suddenly bubbling back to the surface. He didn’t think he would survive another feverish kiss with Claire like that. Her fingertip-fires were still burning on his skin. The warmth of her lips…it was too much. She was too close. One step forward and he could do it all again. He needed space. He couldn’t breathe without sucking in her flames. He took a step back, towards the street. “You need to figure out what you want. Until then, don’t come to me.” 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered again as she fled into the safety of her building. Owen could have sworn there were tears in the corners of her eyes. It didn’t make leaving any easier.


	6. Chapter 6

The weekend lagged on and Owen had nothing to do except sit around his apartment, thinking over the events of Friday night. How could he face Claire again? What would she do? Would she even talk to him again? After what Babick did to that couple that worked in the office…he didn’t want to risk Claire’s job over something like this.

But were they risking anything? It had only been one kiss, after all. Babick couldn’t possibly fire Claire over something so small. Even if it led up to something bigger, which Owen wasn’t sure if it did. Of course he wanted it to. He missed Claire. Working with her was one thing, but he missed his relationship with her. They’d started to build up such a strong trust. They told each other things they’d never told anyone else. There were so many secrets just between them two. Owen felt as if he had given a part of his soul to Claire, and he’d gotten a piece of hers. Their time together had been so raw. They’d helped to be each other’s scars, to close some of the wounds the island had left on them. He’d been reminded of that at dinner, when they finally connected for the first time since their split. And they’d come so close to regaining something of what they once had…

Was it all a waste now? Did this mean he would lose Claire? Again? 

When his computer screen lit up, video call coming in from the Mitchell’s computer, his heart leapt into his throat. So many months of his ignoring these calls, and yet Claire now said it was okay. That was before she kissed him, of course, but she had said it was okay. That the boys wanted to hear from him. And the way he was feeling right now, he wanted nothing more than to talk to someone instead of mulling endlessly over his own thoughts.

When the image came up on his screen it took a second before Gray even realized the call had been accepted.

“Owen?” Gray’s eyes lit up. “Owen! You picked up! Zach, he picked up!” Gray called out, excitedly, off screen. Zach came running over, squishing into Gray’s seat so they could both see him. Owen’s heart broke just a little at the sheer excitement in the boys’ voices, and the surprise that Owen had answered.

“Hey, guys. Sorry it’s been so long. The timing’s just been off.” He lied.

“Owen! It’s so good to see you again! We have so much to tell you! We heard you were working with Claire again, is it true?” Gray asked eagerly.

“Yeah, it’s true.”

“Isn’t that weird?” Zach asked.

Owen thought it over. It had been at first. And it probably would be again. “No, not really.”

“Does this mean you’re getting back together?” Gray asked.

Owen grinned sheepishly. Leave it to these two boys to forever ask the hard questions.

“No, I don’t think so.” Owen said. “See, your aunt and I are just friends now.”

Zach quirked an eyebrow but Gray nodded his head, believing it. “That’s good. Aunt Claire smiles more when she’s with you. Mom says she didn’t smile much at all before, but when she was with you she did.” Gray said, matter-of-factly. “I think she needs it now more than ever, since she’s been getting all those threats.”

“What threats?” Owen demanded, the word planting all of his focus on the screen in front of him. Zach turned to his brother, smacking him on the arm. Gray’s mouth opened, stuttering over his words. “Gray, what threats? Has someone been threatening Claire?”

Zach charged up from his seat, running off-camera shouting for his mom. Seconds later, while Gray was still stumbling over an answer to Owen’s question, Karen came into frame. She knelt down to Gray’s level, putting both hands on his shoulders.

“What did you tell him?”

“I thought he knew!” Gray pleaded. Being on the other side of the screen from this commotion was nearly maddening. There were a million questions surging through the air right now, and from where he sat he didn’t have access to any of them. He wanted to crawl through his computer, stand face-to-face with the Mitchells and demand answers he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

“Go upstairs, both of you.” Karen ordered. When both of them tried to argue she yelled, “Now!”

The boys ran from the room and Karen turned to face the computer.

“So, Owen. You finally picked up.” She said, a little sour.

“Karen, what the hell is happening? Who’s been threatening Claire?”

Karen stood still, shaking her head. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “How many months has it been, Owen? You’ve been ignoring my sons every time they call, and now here you are, demanding answers.” Karen sighed. “You weren’t supposed to know. The boys weren’t even supposed to know. But you know how they figure everything out…I can’t keep anything from them…”

“Karen! Tell me what is happening!”

“She’s going to kill me, Owen. I can’t.”

Owen was sure his face was glowing red. “I swear to God Karen, if you don’t tell me I’m going to have to find out for myself, and if that means knocking down Claire’s door and asking her myself, then I-”

“No! Okay, okay, please. Don’t do that.” Karen sat down in the chair, resting her head in her hands. “Look, I don’t know everything. I’ll tell you what I know but you have to _promise_ me you won’t tell Claire I told you!”

“I promise! Just tell me what is going on!” Owen barked. “What kind of threats?”

Karen breathed slowly in. Her eyes were wet. “Lots of threats. But…death threats, mostly…”

_Death threats._

The words hung in the air. Claire was receiving death threats? From who? For how long? Why hadn’t she told Owen? Told anyone? Why hadn’t she done anything about it? Why hadn’t she told Owen? Didn’t she trust him? They’d never had to deal with this before, even when the Incident was fresh on everybody’s minds. Not death threats. Paparazzi, sure. Legal threats. Angry encounters on the street. But never death threats. All the questions swimming around in his head vied for space, pushing and shoving on the way to his mouth.

“From who?” Owen asked, the first question to come out.

“I don’t know, this group out for her head.” Karen said, head in her hand. “They’ve been doing all sorts of shit to her…hacking her email, flooding her phone, sending her all sorts of messages. They’ve been telling her they know where she lives, where she works…”

“Jesus Christ…why hasn’t she done anything about it?”

“I told her to go to the police! But she said they didn’t do a damn thing, just let it go on. They’ve been very specific with their wording, so there’s no _‘credible threat of violence’_. But it’s been getting even worse, with the one-year anniversary coming up. They said she doesn’t deserve to live after what she did to all those people on the island. They’re calling for justice for all the ones who were killed; that Claire should join them for doing what she did.”

Join them? The pieces were beginning to click in his head. The glasses, to hide her identity. The email account hacked. The damage to her car that put it in the shop. Maybe all of those things had the same source. Maybe Claire had been hiding something really, really big from him after all.

“How did I not realize?”

“Owen, there’s no way you could have known. Not unless someone told you.”

“How could she not tell me?” Owen breathed, still taking it in.

“Don’t take it personally. She hasn’t been telling anyone.” Karen sighed. “You know how she is. Thinks she can deal with it all on her own.” She paused. “She’s going to kill me. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.”

“I should have known.” Owen said. His insides were twisting. How did he miss all of the signs? He was so preoccupied with his infatuation with her that he didn’t notice all the little things that spelled a very good reason for Claire acting so different. No wonder she was so god damn confused. He couldn’t even imagine what she was going through right now.

“You know, I’m really glad she has you again.”

“We’re not…”

“I know. Believe me, I know. She made sure she stressed that point last time we talked. But now more than ever, I think she really needs you. You bring something out in my sister I haven’t seen…for a long time, Owen.” Karen pulled her knees to her chest, curling up in the chair. “You want to know the one thing I remember…if I had to pick one thing that defined Claire…from back when we were kids?”

“I remember this one time,” Karen continued, “there was this big tree in our back yard growing up. It was one of those big branchy ones, just screamed _‘climb me’_! And our parents told us, all the time, don’t climb the tree. It was too difficult. Don’t climb the tree because you could fall out and get hurt. But Claire was bound and determined to climb that tree. You know how she is. There wasn’t a thing anyone could say or do to stop her from wanting to climb that tree. I think the more they told her _not_ to climb the tree, the more she wanted to, just to see what all the fuss was about. Anyway, one day when our parents weren’t home she went into the back yard and, big surprise, she climbed into the tree.”

“What happened?” Owen asked, picturing Claire’s young, smug little face perched in the top of that tree.

“She fell out and broke her leg.” Karen said. “Oh, yeah. Our parents were pissed. But they figured she’d learned her lesson and didn’t punish her. She had to wear a cast for six weeks. That was punishment enough. She could barely walk anywhere. Only had about five people sign it for her. And you wanna know the first thing she did when she finally got the cast off?”

“Let me guess- prepared a presentation for the entire neighborhood on the dangers of climbing trees?”

“Nope. She climbed the tree again.” Karen nodded in response to Owen’s bulging eyes. “I know. But this time, she made it to the top. Mom and Dad saw her from the kitchen window and went screaming out into the yard for her to come down, but she didn’t listen. She just sat up there, looking down on the world from her arbor throne.”

“That doesn’t really sound like Claire.”

Karen nodded slowly, picking at a spot on the table absentmindedly. “I’m not entirely sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way something changed. She’s still got that determination, which I admire. But there’s something else missing that makes her the Claire I remember. It’s been so long I think she’s forgotten it ever existed. But I saw it again, for the first time in years, when she was with you.”

“That’s what your sister calls ‘being careless’.” Owen muttered. Claire’s words, exactly.

Karen shook her head. “It’s not careless. It’s…carefree. There’s a difference.” She sighed and let go of her legs, sitting straight up in the chair again. “She didn’t use to worry so much. About every little thing. I guess one day life just got serious and Claire changed to match it. But I miss her. I feel like, somewhere along the way, I lost my sister who didn’t let the fear of falling out of a tree stop her from climbing it.”

Karen was making it quite clear just what she implied the tree was. Karen’s eyes bored into his own through the computer screen just like her sister’s did. He wouldn’t have thought something like that would have been genetic. But if was Owen was what she wanted, then it wasn’t a fear of falling that was stopping her. What was it? A fear of failure? Of heartbreak? That Owen would hurt her? That she would lose him? It was a lot to think about. Almost too much. It hurt Owen’s head to think about. “Thanks for telling me, Karen.”

“Please don’t give up on Claire. I know she can be pigheaded, but I know that my little sister is still in there somewhere. Once all of this rolls over…maybe we can get her back.”

Owen said goodbye to Karen, shutting the lid of his laptop and closing his eyes. His head was filled with more information now than it had previous to the video chat. So much for clearing his head. Monday morning never seemed so daunting.


	7. Chapter 7

Tension between Owen and Claire had probably never been higher. There was no way to let on that he knew about the death threats that Claire was receiving without breaking his promise to Karen. And now, all the little things suddenly made sense. All of Claire’s new tics. The nervous glances over her shoulder. How easy it was to startle her these days if you managed to sneak up behind her. And those damn glasses. Now that she wasn’t spending any time around Owen, the glasses had returned. And along with those glasses, a wall surrounded Claire he was well familiar with.

He kept as close an eye on her as he felt was appropriate, just to make sure nothing else went wrong. But since she’d kissed him she’d been avoiding him by any means necessary. He knew she needed the space. And he gave as much as possible to her.

But there was a very purposeful way she avoided his gaze. And her stiff silence when she had to walk by his desk. It was tearing him apart. He wanted to hold her again; he wanted to tell her everything would be alright and make sure she was safe. But he had promises to keep to Claire and to Karen. Claire needed space. And Karen needed silence. So he gave them both and braved the rest of the week as well he could.

The closest thing they’d had to an encounter all week was when Owen went to leave work on Friday night. It was late and everyone had already gone home. Claire just happened to be headed for the door at the same moment, but when she saw Owen headed that way she waited, averted her gaze, and busied herself with nothing at all to allow Owen to leave ahead of her.

As he descended the stairs to the carpark he heard her say goodnight to Security. He opened the door and two things hit his senses at once. First, there was a hushed murmur of voices in the garage that cut off the moment he stepped out the door. Second, he could just make out a small collection of people hovering in the shadows next to where Claire’s SUV sat with its fresh coat of paint.

“It’s not her.” He heard a voice mutter across the garage.

Owen stopped in his tracks steps away from his bike. The only two vehicles left in the garage were Owen’s bike and Claire’s SUV. Something was desperately wrong. The next thing he heard was the sound of footsteps. Claire’s footsteps, to be exact, on the stairs behind him. The only thing within reach was his helmet. He grabbed it and whipped around. He came back through the door before Claire had the chance to open it. She was startled by his sudden appearance, and even more so when he plunked his helmet over her head.

“Come on, Sharon. I promised you a ride…” Owen said loud enough for the entire room to hear. He pulled Claire by the hand through the door. She resisted after a second of shock, pulling on his grip. Then she seemed to notice what Owen had seen across the garage. The shadows were shifting impatiently. He pulled on her hand again and she walked forward willingly. Without wasting a second he pulled her onto his bike and peeled out of the garage without putting a helmet on himself.

Claire’s hands were shaking against him when he pulled off into a gas station parking lot two blocks down the road. The gas station was well lit and there were enough people around; it was as safe as he could find at the moment. He swung around so he faced Claire, taking her helmet off of her.

Still shaking, she asked, “What just happened?”

“You tell me. Were those the guys that have been sending you death threats?”

“What?” Claire said. “How did you know?”

“I just know, Claire. Were those the guys?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know who they are!” Claire said, shaking even more now. He set the helmet down.

“We’re calling the police.” Owen pulled out his phone, punching in the numbers.

“They won’t do anything!” Claire exclaimed. “They said there isn’t sufficient evidence to support threats of violence, I don’t have any evidence of stalking or malicious intent! I tried already, Owen!”

“Sufficient evidence? A group of guys were crowded around your car late at night, Claire. They were looking for you. I think that’s sufficient evidence.” Owen said. That’s when Claire began to cry. Just the smallest amount, probably set loose by all her shaking. He stepped back towards her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders to hug her while making the call with the other hand.

_“9-1-1 What’s your emergency?”_

Minutes later, two police cars with lights and sirens screamed down the road. Another cruiser pulled into the gas station next to them. Claire relayed all the information she could. Her previous complaint about the threats. The complete lack of anything at all the police did for her. Owen stood by her the entire time, learning a few pieces of information that Karen hadn’t supplied him with and fuming the whole way through.

They hadn’t taken it seriously the last time, and Owen was damn sure they were going to take it seriously this time. What would have happened if he hadn’t been there? If he hadn’t been able to cover Claire up with his motorcycle helmet and get her out of there before anyone realized what was going on?

“Thank you. We’ll be keeping in touch.” The officer said, putting away his notebook where he was writing down information. “In the meantime, you might want to find somewhere else to stay tonight. If these guys already know where you work, they might be telling the truth and know where you live.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go…”

“You can stay with me.” Owen said. It wasn’t even an offer. Claire was staying with him until he could be sure no one out there wanted to hurt her, no matter what. Satisfied, the officers returned to their vehicle and pulled away.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Claire said.

“Yes I did.” Owen said, starting to pace around the parking lot. “I’ll tell you one thing, you’re never going down into that parking garage alone again. I’ll walk you down there every damn night if I have to. If Security had been doing their damn jobs, you wouldn’t have had to worry. There have got to be cameras down there. How could they not have seen those guys? I’m going to have a serious talk with the poor bastard in that booth on Monday morning. We’re going to catch these bastards. You can stay with me as long as it takes.”

Claire broke down again, tears falling down her cheeks. It was so rare to see Claire cry, to have her break down past all her barriers. It was another thing to see her entire body quake with sobs. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as close as he could get her, and pressing tender kisses to the top of her head.

“It’s okay. I promise. Nothing’s going to happen to you. Not while I’m here. I promise.”

Claire only pulled him closer, crying into his chest.

It was a while before he could coax her back onto the motorcycle so he could get her safely inside. Once she had her own helmet back on and he had his, she held tight onto him until he reached his apartment building and brought her inside. The first thing he did after dropping his keys by the door was to fill a glass of water. He grabbed a blanket and gave both of them to Claire, wrapping the wool around her shoulders and guiding the glass to her mouth. “Fluids.” The entire time she watched him move about the apartment, through the small kitchen and the even smaller living room.

He finally got her settled down on the couch, sitting on the end near the window with the peeling paint. Her eyes flickered over the familiar layout of the TV console, and the scattered items on the coffee table with the dent in the corner. The second-hand couch they’d hauled up the stairs together. The space by the front door where she’d left her packed bags the day she left. 

“I didn’t know you still lived here.” Claire breathed, looking around the apartment that they used to share. They were the first words she’d spoken since he’d pulled up to the building and it was odd she’d been so quiet. He stopped in his tracks, fetching all the cushions scattered around the room to offer to Claire. He held them meekly in his hands.

“Well, it’s hard to beat the rent.” He joked. “Besides, it’s a whole lot more spacious with only one person in it.” The air hung quietly between them. Owen walked to the couch, dropping the pillows and taking a seat beside Claire. “And…I didn’t want to leave behind…my memories…of you.”

Claire looked at him with her red-rimmed eyes. He cleared his throat, tipping the glass back up to her lips. She took a long drink before setting it down on the table.

“I’d really hoped you’d moved on.” Claire said. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

Owen rested his hand on Claire’s blanket-wrapped arm. His fingers clenched around her wrist. “You need rest.”

The spark still hiding in Claire’s eyes did nothing to keep them dry, but she didn’t resist Owen as he guided her to the bedroom. It was only as he was leaving her there did she protest. He wasn’t about to make her sleep on the couch, but Claire refused to kick him out of his own bed. In an effort to avoid confrontation when they were already so worn out, they agreed to take opposite sides of the bed.

If Owen woke in the morning to find Claire wrapped around his arm, having crossed the invisible boundary sometime in the night to be closer to him, then he merely slipped it out of her reach and snuck out of bed soundlessly to allow her to wake on her own, alone. There was only the slightest chance that Claire noticed she’d woken much closer to Owen’s side than her own. She never brought it up, so he couldn’t be sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *DRAMA*


	8. Chapter 8

“I still can’t believe Alec told them everything.”

“The little weasel was trying to get himself a deal. Good thing it didn’t work. You’ll be able to put all three of them away for a long time.” Owen set the kettle back down on the counter, picking up the steaming mug of tea he’d prepared for Claire. 

She was silent for a moment. “I don’t know if I can do it, Owen…I don’t know if I’m going to charge them.”

“What? Why not?” Owen asked, dumbfounded. “They tried to kill you!”

“But it would mean being in court for months on end again…”

Owen nodded. The trials had been hard on them both. But Claire had been on the stand more than he had, and he saw the effect it had on her every night after she came home. The tired eyes, the slumped posture. All she wanted to do after one of those days was to crawl into bed and disappear. He didn’t want to see her go through all that again. Besides, the press would jump on it and there she’d be again, plastered all over the evening news. That protective instinct of his kicked in again, dismissing the idea of Claire trying these guys in court. There was only one silver lining he could think of. “Either way, these guys are going away. Cops said for possession of an unlicensed firearm, they’re gonna get five years easy.”

Claire turned back to the official statement she held in her hand. Her eyes kept returning to the same spot, boring holes into the same few words ever since they’d gotten to the police station. But now that they were back at the apartment, her surprise was gone along with all of her energy. Claire looked so lost.

Mug of tea in hand, he returned to her on the couch. She made no move to take it from him and continued to read over the same few sentences. “Did you read this?” she asked.

“A little. I hope this guy rots in jail. What’d he say?” Claire handed over the paper and Owen took it gently, setting the tea down on the coffee table to be forgotten. 

_‘It was a Friday night. She’s always working late - last one out of the office. We knew she was going to be alone, and nobody would even notice she was gone until Monday morning when she didn’t show up for work. She doesn’t have any friends and she doesn’t talk to anybody. We figured we’d have the best shot if we did it on a Friday night. So we traced her car back from the body shop and waited. She deserves to pay. I want her to know that. She deserves to feel what I felt. What all those people on the island felt.’_

“Alright, we don’t have to read this anymore.” Owen stood, placing the paper on the kitchen counter, out of Claire’s reach.

She hadn’t cried again since last night. But there was something new in her eyes. Owen didn’t recognize it, but he didn’t like it one bit. It had appeared the first time she’d read through the statement. When her eyes began to burn holes in those words. “Hey. They were wrong,” Owen said.

“No they weren’t.”

“Claire, you did _not_ deserve that. Don’t for a second think-”

“No, it’s not that.” Claire stood, swiping a piece of hair behind her ear. “Is that really who I am?”

“What do you mean?”

“Am I really that cold? That distant?” she asked, dropping both of her hands from the hug she had around herself. “You saw it. I don’t have any friends! I never talk to anyone! I don’t have a single person in my life who would even notice if I’d gone missing!” Claire shouted.

“Hey! They were wrong! You have me!”

“But before you came to work at the company, they were right! And before the Incident, they were right! I push everyone away! You are the only person I have in my life that gives a shit about me!” Claire’s breath hitched. “No one else offered to do anything. And you’ve done everything! You’re the only person who actually cares about me. And all I do is push you away!”

Owen marched forward. Two long strides. He covered the distance in between them and stepped in close to her. His face was inches from hers. He encroached on as much of her personal space as possible but kept his hands to himself. “Then push me away.” He spoke softly, so close to her ear as he was. She kept her head turned away, chest rising and falling like a Richter scale. “Push me away, if that’s what you really want to do.”

Claire hesitated, arms once again wrapped around herself. She swayed back and forth just the smallest amount. Thinking. It felt as if minutes had passed. Certainly more than the few heartbeats it actually was before she slowly leaned forward and crossed the seeming divide to gently rest her forehead on Owen’s chest.

He wasted no time in cupping the back of her head with one hand and scooping her up with the other, pulling her into his embrace. Her arms finally unraveled, grabbing handfuls of the back of Owen’s shirt that she was pressing her face into now. It was like this before, after the Incident. The way she pressed herself into his chest. The way she tried to envelope herself in his warmth, in his arms, so nothing outside of them could touch her. To her, he was protection. He was safety. He was the only sanity in a world that no longer made sense. And all of that was returning now as he held her in his arms once more. Her body quaked with dry sobs and he pulled her closer with each one. He leaned in, smelling her distinctive vanilla scent.

It was the scent that did it, probably. What drove him over the edge. He’d gone the entire night worrying if Claire was alright and it was only hitting him in the morning that _she almost died_. Somebody tried very hard to take Claire away from this world and if he’d been even seconds earlier or later he may never have been there for her. She might not be here in this moment, right here in his arms, or ever again. This was different than the Incident. The danger on the island had been wild, unpredictable. This attack on Claire had been deliberate and directed solely at her. There hadn’t been any danger to him, yet he still there was still that fear lingering in his chest. He pressed a kiss to her head. He didn’t care how that would seem. His or not, he couldn’t stand to think of the world without Claire in it. He pressed his lips to her temple, feeling her warmth and her heartbeat and her smooth skin. His fingers ran through her hair and he could swear she was nuzzling her face into his neck.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere,” he said, rubbing soft circles into her back. As her breathing returned to normal she made no move to let go of Owen. “You know I love you. No matter how much of a recluse you are.” Her body jolted suddenly, and he panicked for a second before realizing she’d given a laugh. She breathed out, short and sharp, with only a puff of warm air in place of the laugh he loved to hear from her so much. “I’ll love you either way, but it’s your decision to make. Is that who you wanna be?”

She slowly pulled away from his chest. Her hands relaxed, releasing the clumps of Owen’s shirt she’d collected in her fists.

“I know we fucked it up last time,” Owen admitted, “and I know it was difficult and we never talked about it. But something this important isn’t supposed to be easy. And this? Us? This is important. To me. You are important to me.” He cupped her cheek, looking into her eyes. She gently bit down on her lip as she looked up at him with sparkling eyes. “If I’ve learned anything in the past two days, it’s that I’d be willing to lose anything I have in my life as long as I still had you. My bike, my job, this crappy apartment; I’d give it all up to keep you. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you.

“I wasn’t there for you before when you needed it, but I promise that I will be. From now on, whenever you need me, I’ll be right there. And I know I need to talk to you more. And I’m gonna try. I promise. I might need a reminder every now and then…” Claire’s mouth turned into a small smile and she coyly averted his gaze for a moment. “But I promise I’ll try.”

Claire opened her mouth hesitantly to say something, but Owen placed a finger to her lips. He just needed a moment more. She couldn’t turn him down just yet. He had a point to make. “But you can’t tell me we’re not good together. When we really try to connect, when we actually put in the effort, we’re good together. We balance each other out. You’re always serious, and I’m never serious, and together we even that out. Put the two of us together and we almost make a functional adult.” Claire chuckled, but he had to interrupt her once more. “Please. I just have to say something here…because I never said it before.”

Claire raised her hands to where Owen’s still hovered over her lips. She grasped his fingers in hers and listened. “I love you. I really do,” Owen confessed, “and if you’ll give me a second chance- or- third chance? Then I’d love to show you how much you mean to me.”

There was a lump in Owen’s throat that could only be explained by the rising fear in his chest that Claire didn’t need him, didn’t want him, and it was rising so much that it was shoving his heart out of the way. It was being shoved so high that at any moment Owen was sure he would choke on it. Claire pulled their hands down, out of the way. She was grinning, full of mirth. “I would’ve said yes at the start of all that…but you kept making my silence sound sweeter and sweeter.”

The bubble of fear inside of Owen suddenly popped and he had to take a second to readjust. Claire squeezed his hand.

“But,” Claire started, “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me…How?”

“By leaving!” Claire breathed. “What if it happens again? What if I start to question things and…I don’t want to feel _alone_ in this again!”

“Hey,” Owen said, “You’re not alone. I should’ve never made you feel like that. We had too much shit to deal with; I didn’t make time for you. Your head was full of questions…and I never answered a single one. After everything that happened…and we were still trying to figure out what we were? I mean, no wonder you got scared last time. You had that entire conversation all on your own. But I promise, if it ever happens again, I’m gonna be right there. All you need to do is ask.”

“Promise?”

Owen brought Claire’s hand to his lips, placing a kiss to her knuckles. “Promise.”

She pulled her hands out of his grip. Fingers lacing around the back of his neck again, she pulled him down and into a kiss as deep and hard as their last. Owen’s eyes closed instantly, his arms wrapping back around her body. He’d prepared himself for the worst. Claire turning him down. Possibly even getting mad at him for what he’d done last time they were in a relationship. He never even realized she’d felt _alone_. God, what an awful word to feel around someone she should’ve been able to rely on.

As their pace picked up, and they pushed to be closer to one another, Owen relished the feeling of Claire’s hands on him again. How she carded her fingers through his hair, the way she pulled at the roots. Her smooth skin as it skimmed over his, sparking along his skin everywhere she went. There was something fiery about Claire Dearing. It was in her eyes, in her fingertips, and in her breath as each one she pushed into him grew hotter and hotter until he was sure they were going to combust. Claire was like fire, just as beautiful and dangerous as the real thing. And he vowed in that moment to never let anyone put it out.


	9. Chapter 9

Babick was shaking his head, eyeing Owen’s letter of resignation. Owen had already assured his boss that he’d completed all the necessary reviews he’d been hired for, and explained that he’d be on his way. But Babick seemed disappointed.

“You know, your work was well done. And fast to boot. I was going to offer you a full-time position.” Babick said, placing the letter down on the desk. He paged security to come to his office. “You could’ve done well here.”

Owen shook his head. “Nah. Not for me. But thanks for the offer.” It was first thing Monday morning and the office was abuzz with the other employees sitting down to work at their desks. Claire was making her way down the centre aisle, placing each employee’s folder on their desk and answering questions. Owen had suggested she take some time off after what happened, but of course she’d refused.

Babick rose as Security approached. He offered a hand to Owen to shake, then led him out the door of his office. Security met them there, collecting Owen’s badge and card.

“You did good work, Grady. I wish we could have kept you around.”

“It wouldn’t have worked, Carl. You’re too serious about those policies of yours.” Owen said as he began to strut down the aisle. He turned back to catch Babick’s confused face before turning to say loud enough for the entire room to hear, “I’m sleeping with your Manager of Financials.” 

The room fell into an instantaneous and ominous quiet. Claire froze, fingers still holding onto the folder she was passing on to Brenda. As he passed her, he gave her a playful smack on the ass, grinning wickedly. She pointed her eyes at him, “Damn you, Grady.” Claire turned her head back to the room and met Brenda’s gleefully ecstatic eyes. As the door shut behind him, he heard the office nearly explode into raucous gossip and Claire throw her head back and give a defeated groan.

He was going to pay for that when Claire got home.

He was busy with her boxes when she came through the front door. He leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom, arms crossed against his chest. He flashed his teeth at her. “Hello, darling. How was work?”

“Go to hell.” Claire swung her purse into Owen’s chest. It hit him with a _thud_ , harder than he would have expected. He took it and placed it on the rack near the door, the only available space in the now-packed apartment. “You know what everyone was talking about all day? You know what little piece of office gossip has poisoned the water cooler this week?”

“Why, I simply couldn’t imagine.” Owen said, following her into the kitchen. “Was it Jenny’s post-it note collection again? Or the mysterious smell coming from Tom’s desk drawer?”

“You know damn well it wasn’t.” Claire huffed as she turned suddenly and collided with Owen. He wrapped his arms around her lower back.

“Are you really mad at me?” He asked.

Claire raised her hand, leaving less than an inch of space in between her thumb and forefinger. “Like, this much.” She tipped her chin up, planting a kiss on his smiling lips. He let her go, and she began to search for something in one of the boxes on the kitchen counter.

On Sunday they’d gone down to Claire’s apartment to collect her things and officially move her out of there. Even though the police already had the three men behind all the death threats, Owen wasn’t taking any chances with Claire’s life. He’d insisted she move in with him since those men had known so much information about her already, and she hadn’t put up much of a fight until they had to bring it all back into their old shared apartment.

“I talked to security today…said any time I’m leaving work alone they can walk me to my car…” Claire mused, looking under a pile of dish towels.

“That’s good. Did they walk you out tonight?”

“Didn’t need to…Brenda followed me all the way out like a bumblebee…buzzing around me…asking me all sorts of questions about you…” Claire gave up on her search, leaning onto the counter and looking over the mess. “You know, this was a lot easier when we both had _zero possessions_ to our names.”

“But it was still pretty packed back then, too. We really need to find a new place.”

Claire hummed agreeance. He eyed her curiously. The way she just casually accepted apartment hunting with someone she’d only officially, this time around at least, been together with for two days was intriguing. She took in a breath and held it. Something flickered behind her eyes, something he’d seen before but had never been explained or brought to light. This time, for the first time, she turned to him.

“We’re going to be able to live together, right? Without fighting all the time?” Claire asked.

Owen looked at her again. “Of course,” he assured her.

The worry melted off Claire’s face and she leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheek. He tipped her chin up lightly, kissing her properly. “What are you looking for? You trying to find dinner?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll make you something. Go sit down.”

Claire walked out as Owen set to work, making one of her old favourites. She cleared a space on the couch and collapsed into it, letting her shoes hit the floor with a _clunk_. Less than a minute had passed until he heard his computer, which he’d left open on the coffee table earlier, ring with an incoming video call. He peered around the corner, and spied the words _The Mitchells_ on the screen. Claire looked to him, but he merely offered a shrug. She leaned forward, hesitantly clicking on the green icon. She took a deep breath as the call connected.

Owen hovered at the edge of the kitchen, close enough to see the confused looks on the boys’ faces when they saw their aunt.

“Oh! Hi, Claire… I thought we called Owen?” Zach said, darting his eyes over his screen.

“You did.” Claire stated plainly. The boys wavered for a second, before Owen strode into frame to hand Claire a mug of tea. Their eyes peeled open at the sight of the two of them in the same room and they were shocked into silence. 

“Wait…are you two-?” Gray stammered. Claire only smiled politely in response. Dying from the tension, Owen simply leaned down and pulled Claire in for another kiss. The next thing he heard was an honest-to-God _‘Whoop’_ from the other side of the computer, and he broke away to see Claire’s nephews jubilant.

“What happened to ‘just friends’?” Zach asked.

“Not anymore.” Owen said as he walked back to the kitchen to tend to their meal. Claire readjusted, trying to hide her blush behind the steam from her tea. He hadn’t seen her smile so hard in a long time. When he brought the food out to the living room, the boys had summoned their mother. Karen was grinning at Owen when he plunked himself down next to Claire.

“Owen. Thank you.” Karen said, her eyes full of warmth and kindness. There was no way Claire had told them what happened yet. That kind of news would send them through an entire array of emotions he was sure he couldn’t see on any of them.

“Oh, don’t thank me just yet…” Owen said. Claire smiled at him.

“Aunt Claire, I’m sorry…I sort of told Owen about what was happening…” Gray admitted sheepishly from the back. Claire waved him down.

“Don’t worry about it. I kinda figured. It’s fine. He knows. I told him all of it.” Claire said, picking up her fork and gently nudging him with her elbow as she did.

“I’m glad to see I got my sister back.” Karen said. Claire only looked confused. “I missed her. I think I lost her somewhere up in that tree.”

“What are you talking about?” Claire glanced between the computer screen and Owen. He briefly explained how Karen had told him of the story of when they were younger. “Oh, I’m sorry, is that the time you were supposed to be watching me and you let me fall out of a tree? Is that the time you were talking about?”

“Oh, don’t get so huffy about it.” Karen waved her down.

“I broke my leg, Karen!”

“Whatever. My point is, you two are good for each other.” Karen said. “Claire, you were happy for the first time in a long time! And you didn’t care about all the little things along the way. You just let yourself be happy. And I knew that when you gave that up, it was because of Stuffy-Business-Woman Claire. Not Carefree Claire. Not the Claire I remember growing up.”

“We have to be good together.” Owen said, gazing into Claire’s eyes. “Or else we wouldn’t keep coming back together like this.”

“So tell us everything!” Gray insisted.

“Yeah, what made you change your mind?” Zach probed.

Claire turned to Owen, quirking an eyebrow. It was time to tell them. He nodded his head at her. It was her story to tell.

“Okay, so…don’t freak out,” Claire paused, as the eyes of her family waited in anticipation.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!
> 
> I'm so excited to finally be able to share this! This took me a lot of time to get right, which is why I didn't want to post it sequentially. I wanted to make sure every chapter including everything it needed to. I'm so happy it's done! Please, Kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> -GG


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